Clockwork Carnival
by silversummerwords
Summary: Love is never perfect. A series of drabbles/one-shots of Pokemon Ships. Gameverse.
1. Ikanaide (Green X Leaf)

Ikanaide (Green X Leaf/Green X Blue/Blue X Leaf - OldrivalShipping/ConflictingShipping)

The train's wheels rotate, spinning, and spinning, as it pick up speed, while he stares at it.

Is it coming? Ever coming?

What is coming?

The man sits on the bench located at a dark, musty corner of the platform, as he gazes up at the grey, miserable sky. A bleak wind dashes through the platform, messing his brown hair up. His hands absent-mindedly reach to the top of his hair, trying to straighten it back to its original spiky form.

The next train comes, and he spots his silly reflection on the windows. He rearranges it, but the hair never sets. It never works without her brushing it.

Oh right, he is waiting for her.

Is she coming? Ever coming?

The question lingers in his mind as he watches another train goes by. The station is empty, as if it is dead, and he is left all alone in this depressing world.

"You're like a little child, Green." Her chirpy voice says, out of nowhere. "How innocent."

"I'm not, you silly woman." He retorts out loud. "Get onto the train."

"Are you sure you're not going to say anything else?" She says again, and he can imagine her pouting, her silky amber-brown hair moving, as she bends down slightly. She is beautiful.

He remembers her hand reaching out, patting him a few times on the head. He grumbles, brushes it away as he blushes. She teases, and he looks away. And not wanting to be defeated, he pulls her into a hug, and pecks at her cheeks, then her lips. He smells her sweet perfume, and when he opens his eyes slightly, he sees her blushing, which is a rare sight to behold, and he realizes that she is relishing in the happiness like he is. He feels empowered, victorious, like he can conquer anything if he wanted to. He loves her.

"Now, get onto the train." He smirks, while she frowns at him, vexed, before she pokes him at the chest.

"You haven't say it." She says as she looks at him expectantly.

"Okay, okay," He sighs. "I love you, Leaf."

"Not that one." She says as she started jabbing at his toned muscles.

"I can't tell you that, yet." He smiles.

"What?" She exclaims. "No, no, no, it's something you have to say now!"

The horn blares, signalling that departure is imminent. She glances towards the source of the sound, before she turns back to him, looking irritated.

"One last chance," She says, firmly. "Say it."

The horn blares once more. He looks at her, confused but gives a wry smile. She huffs, before she hurriedly walks up the steps. At the carriage door, she gives him one more glance.

"I'm going to get you for this, you dimwit." She giggles. The door slowly closes, as her radiant smile beams at him. He opens his mouth, closes it again, before he simply smiles, and waves his hand. Only a small gap is left before the door completely closes, and the urge to yank it open and sweep her out of that train carriage rose in his chest. Yet, he suppresses the desire, and watches the door closes slowly.

"I love you, Green." Her chirpy voice calls out, and something inside him breaks, his feet stuck onto the concrete ground as the wheels pick up speed. He suddenly runs after the train, but the metal giant runs faster than he could ever imagine, and soon it disappears from his line of sight.

He couldn't say it.

Back on the bench, the man fingers the small, purple velvet box. He can imagine the joy, the exhilarating expression of love and excitement written all over her face, the squeals she will cry, at the very moment she steps down the train and sees him, kneeling on one leg, presenting the dainty ring before her. He can imagine the days he will have, with her by his side, their little banters and sweet moments of love, until they are old and gray.

But the train will never come. Never.

 _Train accident kills hundreds of passengers and crew. Not one survivor was found._

 _Tragedy strikes along railway tracks, explosion burned down the whole train._

The headlines rained down on him like stones, heavy boulders, killing him from the inside.

He should have said it.

He should have cried out loud, let loose all his emotions and scream out those two words, those two words that could have saved her, that could have saved himself.

"Don't go."

._._._._._._._._._._._._.

 **This fic is focused on different romance scenarios that aren't as perfect as they should be.**

 **For this one-shot, it was inspired from the Japanese song "Ikanaide" that talks about a person's wish to say "Don't Go" to his/her love who is going away. And i made it sadder and more depressing. Gosh, someone help me fix my emotions.**


	2. Cold Rain (Red X Yellow)

Cold Rain (Red X Yellow - SpecialShipping)

"I can hear your heart beating." He says, an unreadable expression on his face.

She stares at her heart sitting on his right palm, the organ beating ever so consistently, like clockwork.

"And what does it say?" She asks, as her hand reaches out towards his cheeks, caressing it lightly. The boy stays silent for a few moments, before he replies,

"That humans are so cold."

She pauses, as her fingers slowly ran through his raven black hair, and then to his ears. While her other hand reaches out to his hands, fingers slipping into the gaps of his pale ones.

"Your hands and ears are so cold, too." She remarks, softly."

"It's because of the rain." He answers, as his red eyes stares intently at her.

"... Maybe." She whispers, nodding her head. Her golden-yellow hair dances around in the wind, swaying, swaying. She stares at her heart, its rhythm slowing down, the tempo was disappearing, and so was the warmth leaving her body. The boy remains silent, emotionless, as he gazes into her eyes.

"Do you have a heart?" She asks.

"No." He replies, so immediately that it frightens her. It is as if he was programmed to answer the question in this manner.

The seconds tick by, as she feels strength leaving her body, her fingers freezing, as the rain pelted at the hospital window. She gazes at him, a pained look on her face, before she grapples whatever is left inside of her and pushes her face closer to him.

Their lips touch, and her tears trickle down. She tastes its saltiness, and starts to wonder if he can taste it too. Opening her eyes slightly as she gasps for air, all she can see is a pair of red eyes, boring into hers, unfazed by the kiss.

"I love you, Red." She says, her voice soft, sweet, shattering.

"I do not understand." The boy says, as holds onto the dying heart in his palm. "What do you mean by 'I love you'? Is it an emotion you are feeling towards my human specimen? Is Red my name?"

"I don't comprehend, #072493. I don't have a heart. I can't feel, nor can I empathise. I am not assigned with those tasks. All I am here, is to take something from you. And I have completed my task."

The heart stops.

"I am also told to take down any last words of Human Specimen #072493, Yellow. Is 'I love you, Red', your last words as a human? If that is true, I shall input it into the Registry for Last Vocal Movements of Human Specimens."

His red eyes observes the limp body, whose slender hands are still touching his cheeks, but her eyes are finally closed.

"Human Specimen #072493 is confirmed to be dead. Processing information from HQ."

A whirring sound vibrated throughout the ward, and suddenly the boy lifts the body of the dead girl, his lips touching the girl's cold ones softly.

"HQ has confirmed that Human Specimen #072493 is fit to be a Xenobot. Activation completed."

The girl's body vibrated slightly, while the boy continues to speak,

"Registry for Last Vocal Movement of Human Specimens has sent over the last words of Human Specimen #072492, directed to Human Specimen #072493. Recording to be played."

The girl started moving, slowly, until her bright, glassy blue eyes are staring at the boy's red ones.

"Human Specimen #072492, Red, says to Human Specimen #072493, Yellow," The boy says, before his gaze suddenly softens, while the girls's arms reach out towards him.

"I love you, Yellow."

The two Xenobots embraced each other, sharing one last passionate kiss, as a robotic voice says,

"Human Emotions captured, Xenobot #072492 and Xenobot #072492,"

He can taste her tears.

And she can taste his.

"Self-destruction sequence, activated."

._._._._._._._._.

 **This fic is focused on different romance scenarios that aren't as perfect as they should be.**

 **This particular one was inspired from a few sentences in a chapter of Horimiya. How it spiraled down into such a tragedic, angsty, complicated one-shot, I have no idea, oops.**

 **And if you wanna know what in the world is this one-shot set in, here's a basic summary:**

 **All humans, after they die, their hearts are removed and they are converted to Xenobots, emotionless robot-like things that continue to work for humans.**


	3. Interviewer (Ethan X Kris)

Interviewer (Ethan X Kris - NewBarkShipping)

"What kind of music do you like?"

He thinks he should approach this slowly. His words all carefully chosen, and he tells them to her little by little. She looks at him with a raised brow, as she licks her vanniluxe.

"I guess... Hip Hop?"

He cringes, not too visibly. He does not like Hip Hop. Contrarily, J Rock is his favorite.

"What kind of food do you like?"

She casually moves away some stray hair flying in front of her eyes, until her ice cream drips down onto her hands. She licks away the sweet dessert, while he turns away, cheeks hot as he thinks of how sexy she looks. She notices none of this, however.

"Sweet things."

He cringes again. He does not like sweet stuff, but rather, preferred the more sour kinds of food.

"What kind of movie do you like?"

"Romance."

Yet he likes Horror.

"What kind of words do you like?"

"Pretty, long, elegant words."

Yet he likes short, convenient words.

He wonders why he is here, sitting with the girl he loves, when the two of them are so very different. They aren't exactly opposites, but they are still different.

"Who is the person you like? L-Like in the romantic sense?" He asks, out of the blue, before he hurriedly adds, "Oh, it doesn't have to be me, by the way."

She blushes, and his face fell. She casts him a glance, but he does not notice, as his eyes are looking at his clenched, pale fists. He knows that she won't love him. Someone so different to her, is probably the most unattractive person out there.

Thinking things like these, he gave up again and again, and, while self-satisfied, lets himself get hurt. He wants to love someone, and that someone to love him back. He thinks its wishful thinking, and assures himself that it is. He is either too late to get her, or to cowardly to do so.

"Do you want to know?" She asks, as she inches closer to him.

He probably does not. But what can he do? He has asked the question, and the next thing is to let his heart become broken.

He has to put up a good front, pretend that he has accomplished something, and smiles to himself.

"So who is the person you love?" Then he quickly adds, "Without a doubt, that person can't be me."

"Why do you say that?" She replies, crestfallen.

He gives out a dry laugh. "Why not?"

She frowns at him, not caring that the ice cream is melting into a puddle of sweet vanilla on the ground under the sweltering heat.

"Because I love you, Ethan."

The cries of the cicadas are deafening, so loud and noisy. And the silence lingering between them seems to accentuate the volume of the insects' singing.

He thinks he's dreaming, and shakes his head in denial. "You're joking." He concludes with a half-hearted grin.

"I'm not." She says firmly, but he averts his eyes. He does not believe it.

"Look at me, Ethan." She glares at him. "Look at me."

He turns around carefully, his eyes looking almost fearful, yet hopeful. She chuckles at his childishness. Until she bravely pulls his collar, pressing her lips onto his. He nearly chokes, but the sweetness of the vanilla seals his lips, and he melts.

And when she breaks the kiss, he feels as if the dream is broken.

"Now, do you believe me?" She says, as she smiles at him.

"I-I... Why? We're so... different." He finally says, dejected. She blinks her eyes, and understands what is going on with him, what are the insecurities within him.

"What kind of music do you like?"

"J Rock."

"What kind of food do you like?"

"Sour things"

"What kind of movie do you like?"

"Horror."

"What kind of words do you like?"

"Short, convenient."

She lets out a cheery laugh, as she licks the insubstantial remains of her ice cream. Her fingers are sticky, but that does not matter to her.

"So, who is the person you like?"

He contemplates whether this is alright. They are different, but that doesn't seem to matter to her. It doesn't seem to him anymore, either, when she has just confirmed that it is a mutual feeling. He feels more courageous, adrenaline spiking, as he daringly snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She yelps, but he does not wait, and aggressively hugs her, and kisses her on the lips.

A long, marvelous silence followed, as they ignore the looks from passers-by. He tastes the sweet vanilla of love. Screw Hip Hop, screw J Rock, screw all those stupid differences.

"I love you, Kris."

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

 **Probably the only Romance story I did with a happy ending? I'm weird and I'm not sorry about that. ;p**

 **Inspired by a song of the same name, sung by Itou Kashitarou.**


	4. Eine Kleine (Silver X Lyra)

Eine Kleine (Silver X Lyra - SoulSilverShipping)

The moment you realize you are in this world, you start to scream to yourself, "I wanna disappear."

All those nights you are alone in the empty house, you cry to yourself. Your depressing past was with a scumbag of a father who was never there, and a kind mother who left your world after a cruel twist of fate.

Your heart tears, little by little, and you try to mend it, with your uncertain fingers and your useless sewing skills. The hurt aggravates, your screams left unheard, and you build walls around yourself. You realize that you are alone, and you try not to show it.

And when your father's ugly deeds are discovered by the world, he leaves your side. You despise him for being cowardly, when deep inside, you know you are more of a coward than him. And somewhere in your mind, you know that you want to reach out to him, but you are too afraid to do so. Your outlook on life changes, for the worse, as you view yourself as unneeded. You treat others as insignificant individuals, when deep inside, you know you are much worse.

And when she comes over and breaks down your walls, you retaliate, you push her away, you build more walls. She tries relentlessly, and you start to cry, not because you feel helpless, but because for once, you feel needed.

You seem to change, for the better, and you find yourself treating others better, but in the end, deep inside, you hate yourself. You hate your own guts, you hate your past, you hate the criminal's blood that flows in you. You think of yourself as a curse, as an unholy being, and you continue to scream to yourself, "I wanna disappear."

She tells you she loves you, and you cry again, and this time, it's because you are full of joy. Your sleeves are drenched with your tears, and your torn heart finally stops bleeding, but the holes remain, and you start to hope she can fix it.

Yet you pause, the bleeding continues once more, when you tell yourself that she is a pure existence, and you can't bear yourself to touch her, to taint her. You believe that you don't deserve her. But if God permits, you want to be with her for all eternity.

Although you want her to know all of what you feel about her, you always end up lying to her. You tell her, and even try to show her how "happy" you are. You laugh and say, "I can deal with all the sorrows that'll never disappear."

And the wounds that are about to open up, seem to hurt more than usual. You avoid her, and when she notices your denials, she shouts at you, and even says that she will leave, and you tell her to go ahead, because you want to contain all the hurt to yourself. Because you want to protect her.

Even in such a distorted and dysfunctional world of yours, you still want her to stay, but your priorities are sorted out well (or that's what you think) and you stick with your choice. You have experienced too many goodbyes, and you cry inside, because you have accepted the goodbye you assume that is inevitable.

Yet she goes against you. She repeats the three words to you over and over again. You resist, but she resists your resistance. You scream at her, "I'm much more of a coward than you think I am. Because I have secrets I can't tell anyone."

She says she doesn't mind, but you do. You finally yell, "I wanna disappear. So why, why, why?"

You know why. You know why she is always so persistent. But you don't want her to be. You want her to leave you, and find a respectable man, a man with a clean family, a clean background, an untainted man, get married, have beautiful children, you forgotten. It's not something you want, but you think it's for the best. You think it's your only way to fade away, let your heart to break apart and finally to fulfill your wish. To disappear.

"You're kind, Silver." She whispers into your ear. You stop thrashing, you went still, as she continues to whisper delicate words to you. Your brain stops functioning, not used to people calling your name. You wonder when was the last time anyone has said them to you. You see a ray of light. You stare. You wonder if she can belong to you, and to you only.

"I don't want you to disappear." She says. You finally hear the words you want to hear. You break down into a tearful and sobbing mess, and you see her before you, holding on a needle and red thread, patiently mending your torn heart.

You ask her, "Can I call your name?" She only smiles gently, and tells you that such things need no permission. You clutch your tightening chest, feeling as if you don't deserve this, yet you finally understand that the permission to love her was never needed in the first place. You close your eyes, and under your closed eyelids, you see vivid colors of happiness that you finally realize they have been given to you at last.

And as you open them, you see a bright world, all your walls gone, your resistance gone. Your heart still needs mending, but you know with her, anything is possible.

Slowly, you call her name, finally finding solace.

"I love you, Lyra."

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

 **Inspired from a song of the same name, sung by Kenshi Yonezu. Beautiful lyrics, gorgeous melody and a soothing voice.**

 **Do RR and tell me how you feel about these one-shots so far :)**


	5. 5 Centimetres (Brendan X May)

5 Centimetres (Brendan X May - HoennShipping)

"The last person I see this year is you. The first person I see next year is also you." He laughs lightly, as his eyes are fixated on the bright fireworks that are ending the year and is welcoming the new one.

"I hope it will always be like that." She answers, but the booming fireworks buries her words. She sneaks a peek at the Champion sitting next to her, but he has no evident reaction to her words. She sighs, as she attempts to reach out for his fingers. She slips them in between the gaps, and silently chuckles, as she hides her blooming excitement when she discovers that her fingers fit the gaps of his fingers.

Yet the smile quickly fades, when she steals a glance and observes no reaction from him. Her chest tightens, and discouraged, her fingers retreat back to her spot.

There's a distance, between him and her. Like an invisible five centimetres thick glass pane.

She turns again, and tries to touch him, but something is in her way.

A five centimetres between him and her. Is it separating him from her? She wonders. Or is he separating himself from her?

She wants to grasp his hand, never let him go. She wants to hold him tight, and kiss him goodnight. She wants to confess her love, or even propose marriage, even though it should be the guy who does it. She can try to be the groom, and him as the bride. Anything can work. She just wants anything, anything that can shorten that distance, to remove that five centimetres.

Yet nothing of that sort is going to happen, as he stands up and says that they should go home. He offers to fetch her home, but she sits still, not budging from her spot. He extends a hand, but she does not take it. Because she knows that once she takes his hand, it will take forever for her to shorten that distance. For him to shorten that five centimetres.

She does not take his offer, because she knows that it will be ages later until he will send her home again.

She does not blame him, really. It isn't his fault that being a Champion requires him to spend months away from her. It isn't his fault that he has to fly off frequently to meet with important people at other regions. It isn't his fault that other women flock to him like mice to cheese, or pigeons to bread.

But she dislikes the fact that he doesn't make a move on her. Years of dating, but he keeps up the gentlemanly demeanor. She knows he's kind, gentle, yet she wants him to be more on the aggressive side, instead of her always waiting, waiting, and waiting for him to close that distance.

"I don't want to wait anymore." She says adamantly. "No more of me feeling so insecure about everything."

He halts, and realizes where this is going. He wonders if he should tell her, of his own insecurities. There's this five centimetres between him and her, and it's him who doesn't dare to close it. Perhaps it's the untamed monster inside of him, and the reins he's desperately trying to hold on, to prevent himself from going crazy, prevent his fervent love for her from taking him over.

He wants to grasp her hand, never let her go. He wants to hold her tight, and kiss her goodnight. He wants to confess his love, or even finally take out that ring box he has been keeping under that drawer and put it onto her ring finger.

He heard her. He wants her to be the last and first person he sees every year. He wants her so badly that it hurts. But he wonders what is stopping him. He doesn't know.

Like her, he is insecure. About many things. Everything.

He leans in, and kisses her on the forehead for a long while. He can feel the heat on his face, and the heat emanating from her forehead.

He grabs her hand, and interlocks his fingers with her's. Her warmth is inviting, and again, he holds onto the reins, not too tightly. He thinks he should try to relax his grip on them, and bit by bit, remove all that tiny little insecurities.

And bit by bit, he wants to shorten that five centimetres. To four. To three. All the way to zero.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

 **It's quite therapeutic to write these. The next one will be a fun couple to write about too! :)**

 **Do RR :D**


	6. Milk to Coffee (Steven X Cynthia)

Milk to Coffee (Steven X Cynthia - Lolishotashipping/Darksteelshipping)

I often wonder if I can turn back time, and relive those moments when we were together, where we can still see each other.

I remembered the sunset days when I kissed you, my arms holding you close, the two of us then comfortably wrapped in the darkness of the night, as we pretended we can never separate from each other, almost like milk and coffee mixed together. Your honey caramel hair enticed me, as I inhaled the tasty aroma of love, giddy and craving for more. Yet I resisted the urge, because the bitter aftertaste that lingered pulled me back to reality, reminding me that we can't be together.

We were young, silly teenagers who knew nothing of the world. I found you, and you found me, and that seemed to be everything that mattered to me at that time. But, slowly as I entered adulthood, my wealthy father consistently reminded me that I am his son, as well as the Devon Corporation's heir. My responsibilities and status barred me from you. You said you didn't mind, but I know that this bitter gap will only widen over time, and I didn't want to you to get hurt because of it.

There were no tearful goodbyes, and you simply nodded, but I could see the sadness behind your steely eyes. You said someday you will catch up to me, and become someone worthy of me. You are strong, and I fully know that one day, for sure, you can reach me.

We parted ways, and you returned to Sinnoh, while I went ahead to further my knowledge, getting stronger as a trainer, all the while without you, the milk to my coffee.

My talents pushed me to become a Champion. Perhaps I purposely widened the gap between us, but I trusted that you can pull us together, and so, I patiently waited. I declined any matchmaking sessions from "worthy" partners, avoided the advances of many women, because I already have you, the milk to my coffee.

Yet I miss you so, as I waited for you to come to me, and for us to stand together. I miss your touch, your voice, your partnership and silently, I shed tears no one knows of except for my lonely self. Things get so bitter without you, the milk to my coffee.

When I finally see you on the news, the television, your gallant figure fighting through the trainer ranks, my heart rose to whole new levels. I whispered many good lucks, all the while feeling rather bitter, because I didn't want other men to see the beautiful and strong you, because I wanted to keep you to myself.

Now you are a Champion, and with a stomach full of butterflies, I hurriedly book the earliest flight to Sinnoh, under the guise of fulfilling my duties, to give my congratulations and regards to the new Sinnoh Champion. I might fool the world, but I can never fool you. You know I was coming over, not to say congratulations, but to stand with you, the bitter gap no longer existent. Because you are my intellectual equal, the pristine, charming woman that I had loved since we were teens, and after so long, the desire to savor the aroma of our bittersweet love, seems to explode without reservation.

The moment I see you standing confidently on the podium, mere feet away from where I stood, I struggle to fight with the urge to push through the crowd and sweep you off your feet. You spot my tall figure from the crowd, and your cheeks flush red, while I smile back teasingly, amused at your reaction. You and I gaze at each other with a dizzy anticipation and desire, all the while grinning to ourselves, because no one will ever pry open our secret, our promise, and at this moment, it is fulfilled.

And then you finally stand before me, triumphant, and I nod my head. We shake hands, pretending that this is the first time we meet, even though it really isn't. We exchange formalities, even though we know that they aren't needed. And when we finally escape from the stuffy cameras and fans, we discover the precious, precious alone time we have finally attained after a long, long while.

A nervous wreck as I am, I hold your hands anxiously in mine, before I realize how familiar your fingers are to me. You smile, your honey caramel hair gleaming, enticing me once more. I wonder what allowed me to finally have you by my side, and you seem to have read my mind, as you chuckle.

"Milk to coffee." You whisper.

"Milk to coffee." I whisper back, before planting a long-awaited kiss on your dearly missed lips.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

 **No one probably expected this couple to appear in this series of one-shots.**


	7. Garden of Rain (Wallace X Winona)

Garden of Rain (Wallace X Winona - GracefulShipping)

If I say, "I love you", can you hear me through the screams of the downpour, the misty curtains of pelting rain, in our Garden of Rain?

If I say, "I never wanted this", can you remember the times when the skies were blue and free, with you feeling the wind in your hair, while I was dancing with you, in our Garden of Rain?

If I say, "I'm sorry", can you finally forgive me, and stop this heartbreaking rain, and let me see your graceful figure, your soft and passionate gaze, your dignified face, once more?

Our Garden of Rain, had been all sunshine and flowers, flooded with warm kisses and the fresh smell of new love. You would twirl around, your blue one-piece dress looking absolutely adorable on you, as you pretended to be flying in the skies, craving for the blue beyond, like an innocent, brave child, unafraid of anything. You loved to daydream, and I loved that side of you. The carefree you that attracted me, who had been caught up with the rest of the world.

I would dance, and twirl around, perhaps with much more elegance and poise, considering of my own profession as a Coordinator. I courteously asked you for a dance many a times, and usually for the first few minutes, I was the lead, before I found myself exploding into a joyful wonder, completed with confetti and sunshine, in our garden of rain. It had always been you who removed my restraints, my rules, my facade, and provided me the place where I can be myself.

But the drizzles would come by now and then. I would stand in the garden, feeling the little droplets, before I dismissed them and left to attend to affairs in the real world. You start to spend more time in the garden, all by yourself. Our time seem to increasingly revolve not around us, but my schedules and responsibilities. And little by little, you and I don't see each other as much like the time we first met and fell in love.

The drizzles turned into small showers, but I took no notice, simply because the time I had been spending in this little garden was becoming lesser and lesser. I was positively poisoned, by the thought that I can't solve this problem, and with that, my presence in the garden dwindled away.

The small showers transformed into rain, rain that was falling consistently. I merely took a glance, and assumed that it will be over, and that proved to be my biggest mistake. And when I got a rank up in my career, by receiving the Champion title, I was virtually no longer in this garden we were supposed to share.

And finally when I remembered to come visit the garden, at long last, I discovered that I had done something horrible beyond belief.

From a mere drizzle, the rain had tumbled out of control, now pouring from the heavens itself, in tremendous gushes of water, that I myself, a specialist in the type, was unable to fathom and get a hand on. The skies were of a depressing grey, enveloping the once gorgeous garden, and I vaguely see you standing there. I went stunned, as I see you, drenched, rubbing your eyes. I gasped, when I finally realized that the rain, had, all the while, been your tears.

Your wails, although drowned out by the rain, could still be heard, in the form of painful stabs to my heart. I started to cry out, "I love you Winona", "I never wanted this, Winona" and "I'm sorry, Winona". Yet the rain only worsened, as they came down mercilessly, and I despaired, ridden with guilt and my tears rushed out. The rain was now a full-blown waterfall, the garden no longer recognizable, as I tried to differentiate my tears with yours, my rain with your rain.

I can no longer see you, your graceful figure, your soft and passionate eyes, your dignified face. I can no longer see you dancing and twirling, in that beautiful dress of yours.

We can no longer find back the love we once had for each other.

Because in this empty Garden of Rain, the rain is never-ending.


	8. Say Something (Steven X Cynthia)

Say Something (Steven X Cynthia - BlackSteelShipping/LolishotaShipping)

"Where is he?" She nearly yells, as she charges past the nurses, the doctors, the Hoenn Elite Four and Wallace, who are trying to calm the platinum blonde down. She sees his parents, the Devon Corporation CEO sobbing in a corner, while his wife tearfully grabs onto her husband's sleeves, the tears wetting the fabric. Upon receiving the news from Wallace, she had flew down straight to Hoenn on her Togekiss. Meanwhile, the current Hoenn Champion, Brendan, comes down the corridor, breathless, as he demands to know what had happened.

"Landslide on Mt Pyre." Wallace answers grimly. "It hit his head... and... and..."

The Sootopolis Gym Leader takes in a deep breath, and turns away, as he tries to calm himself down. But she shuts out whatever he said, as she turns her head in ever direction, howling, "Where is he? Where is he?"

"Cynthia, Cynthia," Phoebe croaks. "Calm-"

"Where is he!?" She screams. In that instance, her hair becomes all disheveled, her beautiful face stricken with disbelief, as she tries to pick herself up and rush into the room. But Wallace holds her back, as he bites into his lower lip. But she is not relenting, as she tears herself away from the Gym Leader. She barges into the room, while Drake finally stops Wallace, shaking his head.

In the cold, grey room, void of any pretty furniture, but instead filled with metal cabinets, and an elevated metal bed, where there lies a figure, covered with a white cloth. She shuffles over, her every step slow and trembling, her knuckles going white, as her hands fearfully reach out for the white cloth.

And the moment she sees his pale, lifeless face, she drops to her knees, her arms numb, her legs numb.

"Ah... ah..." She gasps, as she softly caresses his cheeks. His warmth, his beating heart, are no longer here.

"Say something, Steven." She whispers.

But all she receive is silence.

"Say something, please." She begs.

"Say something."

"Say something."

"Say something."

"Say something."

The room stays quiet, as the Sinnoh Champion found herself wailing, tears uncontrollably falling.

"Say something."

She kisses his cold, blue lips.

"Anything."


End file.
